


the wood suddenly brought me your touch

by the_zimmerbutt



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Fantasy, hand lotion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_zimmerbutt/pseuds/the_zimmerbutt
Summary: Set during Blue Lily, Lily Blue. Ronan gives Adam magical dream lotion, Adam finds a very practical use for it.





	the wood suddenly brought me your touch

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Your Hands" by Pablo Neruda.  
> I chose it 10% for Cabeswater, 90% for the dick joke. 
> 
> Un-betaed! Let me know if you see any mistakes besides my gratuitous use of italics

His body ached and he was covered with grease, some of it still behind his ear where he’d been unable to swipe it off with the rag hours ago. Adam knew he smelled like motor oil and the rust-free enamel they used on engines at the garage and sweat and longed for nothing more than a shower and his bed.

He leaned one shoulder against the wall as he punched out his card, unable and unwilling to stand on his own two feet any more. He was completely overcome with exhaustion and merely blinked at the display on the punch clock for several seconds before cajoling himself into moving. His back ached, his knees were sore, and he’d caught a hefty bruise to his bicep when Craig hadn’t been watching where he was going and knocked him into a shelf. His hands, his knuckles were dry and cracking from the chemicals he used at the factory, and the steel wool he used to scrub off rust at the garage.

“See you,” he said to the lone other employee, who grunted and spat a mouthful of chewing tobacco juice onto the concrete floor of the garage. The night was cool and damp, unusual for fall in Virginia, and he picked his way over to his shitty little car, avoiding broken shards of glass and mentally composing a to-do list.

He wanted to get his chemistry and history homework out of the way before the weekend, and there were college applications to fill out, scholarship requests to debase himself for, oh, and a magical forest that needed his help with some mysterious and unspecified task.

With a heavy sigh, Adam unlocked his car door and sank into the driver’s seat. With only a few busted springs and the stuffing spilling out next to his elbow, it was usually comfortable enough, but… Adam shifted, feeling something digging into his ass.

He half-lifted himself and closed his hand around a small, round  _something_. After several seconds of fumbling with his other hand, the overhead interior light clicked on and he frowned. He twisted off the lid and his frown deepened. Inside were several generous uses of what looked like lotion. Without his noticing, the smell of mist and moss and fresh leaves- the smell of Cabeswater- had filled the cab. He frowned slightly and replaced the lid, then turned it this way and that in the light.  

His suspicions were confirmed when he thought to flip it over; this was a dream thing. Ronan’s surprisingly elegant handwriting labeled it as what he’d already guessed: _manibus._

For hands.

Adam’s initial reaction was of embarrassment. He dropped the lotion and placed his hands in his lap, as if to hide them from scrutiny. He’d known they were looking a little worse than usual, but not enough that he had thought anyone would notice. Especially not Ronan.

After several moments, he felt himself relax. So, Ronan had noticed that his hands were cracked and red and hurt him whenever he tried to close his fingers around anything. Well, he’d tried to offer Adam a solution. That was fine, that was what friends did for each other. Adam didn’t know why the thought made his stomach swoop or his mouth go a little dry, but it _had_ been a long day.

He opened the top again and used the first two fingers of one hand to scoop out a dollop, then awkwardly twisted the lid back on with one hand to avoid dropping lotion all over the inside of his car. He took nearly a minute to rub it into the sad, sore skin of his hands, working his thumb between the metacarpals in his palms to massage the multitude of small muscles there. He let out a small, pleased sound and looked around to make sure there was no one that could have heard.

He flexed his fingers in and out several times before smiling down at them. It could have been his imagination, but already the pain was dulled. He set the container in his cupholder with all the delicacy of a precious jewel and drove back to St. Agnes.

He thought about texting Ronan a ‘thank you,’ but the words from their earlier spat still rang in his ears and he was nothing if not stubborn. All the same, he pocketed the container along with his phone and keys when he locked his car and went up the stairs to his room.

He dropped the lotion, alongside his phone and keys, on the upturned crate that served as a bedside table and stripped out of his grimy work clothes, leaving them in an untidy pile at his feet. He stood unabashedly naked in the center of his bedroom for several long seconds, his eye inexplicably drawn to the innocently white container half hidden by his keyring.

Adam made a soft ‘ _tch_ ’ noise and took his only towel off the rack before padding into the cramped bathroom. What he’d love more than anything would be a long, hot soak in a bath, but it wasn’t as if he had the time or the resources. He barely waited for the water to warm before stepping under the spray of his single stall shower, bracing himself against the chill and feeling himself come alive under the water.

He’d never had a bath, he contemplated, pushing shampoo through his hair, scritching his nails against his scalp and feeling his shoulders relax as the water finally approached a reasonable temperature. Never had one in the trailer park, and certainly had never had one here. Monmouth had a tub, but he’d be damned if he ever used that bathroom for more than a hasty piss.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he soaped himself up efficiently- first his armpits, down his arms and chest to his crotch. The shower water made his pubic hair shockingly dark and he leaned his forehead against the wall, looking down at his hand as he gave his cock a few strokes. His fingers felt softer than normal, almost enough that he could pretend it wasn’t his own hand. Like a streak of lightning, he remembered why his hands were unusually smooth: Ronan’s lotion. For a split second, it was almost as if he could imagine-

He jerked his hand away and straightened up, feeling oddly as if he’d been punched in the gut. Adam told himself that it was nothing. He’d been thinking about touching himself, and Ronan had only popped up because of his thoughtful gift. Nothing untoward.

He hurriedly rinsed the suds out of his hair, feeling them slide down his back and watching them collect at the bottom of the shower, each bubble fighting to be the first to swirl down the grate and be swallowed up by the dark drain. He stood there for several moments longer, then turned off the water and reached for his towel.

Once he’d dressed in second-hand sweatpants and his Aglionby sweater, the coziest clothes he owned, he sat at the small wooden writing desk that had probably been around since the oldest of the nuns that ran the place was still learning her catechism. Wearily, he pulled the correct textbook to him and pawed at the pages until he hit the right one. He read three pages before realizing that he hadn’t absorbed anything and flipped back to reread them.

All the while, he felt the small innocuous container like a red-hot point behind him, burning a hole through his focus and making his attention wander. After another attempt at reading, he irritably snapped the book shut and pushed it to the farthest corner of his desk.

An idea had entered his head in the shower, one that he tried to push away like the book but kept wriggling into his thoughts. He was halfway through a chemistry problem set when he gave up and laid down his pencil.

He told himself it was late, that he was tired, that he was nearly a week ahead in schoolwork anyway and deserved to get a good night’s rest. That’s what he repeated to himself as he made sure the door was locked and shut off the light. It’s what he kept telling himself as he double-checked his alarm for the morning and plugged in his phone to charge. It’s what he kept telling himself as he wiggled under the blankets and tucked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. His mind painted shadows upon shadows, areas of deeper darkness that twisted into shapes that felt like they belonged in one of Grimm’s fairy tales, or maybe Gansey’s dorky notebook. He told himself that he was going to shut his eyes and fall asleep. He kept telling himself that up until the moment he rolled up onto one elbow to reach for the container of lotion that Ronan had dreamed him.

Pushing the blankets off to one side and resting the container on his belly, Adam hesitated for a moment before pushing the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear down until he could kick them aside. He palmed his cock, ignoring the fact that he was half hard at just the idea.

He bit his lip, hesitated a moment, then twisted off the lid of the lotion and coated his palm. Without any urgency, Adam slowly wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave one slow drag up from the base to the tip. He let out a soft sound as the smell of moss and pine seemed to fill the room, going straight to Adam’s head and sending a surge of arousal straight to his dick.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighed into the dark, his cock fully hard and twitching up towards his belly. Normally, when he jerked off, it was fast. Clinical. Satisfy an urge as neatly as possible, quickly so he wouldn’t be interrupted. This already felt different.

His thighs splayed into a wide vee and he let his other hand drag fingertips up and down his chest. He squeezed the base of his cock slowly and closed his eyes.

If he concentrated on the sensation, on the scent, he could almost pretend… Well. His eyes flicked back open and he scooped more lotion out of the container.

He could almost pretend that Ronan was there, with him in the dark.

Adam shivered at the thought.

He’d been catching Ronan looking at him more these days, and seeking him out to spend time together. He’d been kinder but only to Adam, not to everyone. Just little things, barely noticeable unless he was looking for them. And then there was the lotion; a gift that Ronan had to have planned in advance. He’d noticed that Adam’s hands were wrecked and had wanted to do something for him. The thought made the spark of arousal in his belly grow into something warm and coiled.

He’d noticed. Ronan had noticed.

How lovely it was to be noticed, Adam thought, pressing his thumb into his slit. Wetness was collected there, like drops of dew. The comparison felt appropriate, given that his bedroom now smelled like the woodlands.

The woods, the forest that had given him so much. Cabeswater: the place that he and Ronan both were inextricably tangled with. Adam stifled a moan by pressing his free hand over his mouth. Even though it had been nearly an hour and a shower since he’d applied the lotion, his hand still smelled of earth and green and life. The scent of the lotion had become tied to Ronan in his mind the moment he’d found his handwriting on the container. He knew that in reality, Ronan smelled like cigarette smoke and the laundry detergent he shared with Gansey, a bit like sweat and something that was entirely _him_ , but maybe the Ronan that seemed to like him and leave him gifts smelled like the hand currently clasped over his mouth.

Adam inhaled deeply and pretended left hand was Ronan’s as his other hand moved over his cock. His mind fabricated the idea that they had slipped away from some indeterminate function- the _where_ didn’t matter. It was all about the _who_.

 _We have to be quiet,_ Ronan would say, voice low and close to his ear. Adam’s belly tightened imagining the look Ronan gets in his eyes when he’s about to do something Gansey will chide him for later. Adam felt himself nodding along to whatever fantasy-Ronan said.

_I want to go slow. I want to make you feel good._

Adam shivered and slowed his hand without thinking, squeezing tighter on the upstrokes and sweeping his thumb slowly over the head before sliding his fist back down. His entire body was warm, his extremities tingling.

_Oh, Adam, let me touch you. Please?_

He bit into the meat of his palm, his breathing loud and harsh through his nose. Just the thought of Ronan saying such things made his brain feel a little fuzzy. Half of the thrill was that he knew it would never happen. Just because Ronan was gay, something he’d never been particularly quiet about, didn’t mean that he in any way wanted Adam.

He felt a twist of guilt that momentarily cleared his head; it was inappropriate to think these things about his friend, wasn’t it? He removed his hand and bit his lower lip, his hand stilled at the base of his cock.

It wasn’t hurting anyone. And surely, this kind of thing just … happened. Adam swallowed hard and half-opened his eyes to watch his hand curl over his cock and began stroking himself once more. He found that if he let his eyes drift out of focus, just enough that he couldn’t see the scar on his left knuckle or the way the skin still looked red and a little angry, that it could be anyone’s hand on his dick.

Anyone’s.

Or Ronan’s.

Adam let out a pathetic half-moan at the thought and worked his hand faster.

_Adam, yes, don’t stop, come on._

Adam felt his hips jerking up into his fist, his hand working faster as his focus shifted from sensation to friction. His mouth fell open and he couldn’t muster the brainpower to be embarrassed about the moans that were being punched out of him at the same rhythm that his hand was stroking-

His eyes closed and he was seeing Ronan. Ronan in front of him, teeth flashing in the light as he laughed, or Ronan behind him, long fingered hands trailing down his spine, or Ronan on his knees, his chin lifted in defiance even as his eyes begged Adam- Begged him for what?

_Adam, come for me, please, I want you to come. I want you to come on my tongue, all over my face._

Ronan’s pretty blue eyes would be staring up at him, wide and earnest as Adam jerked his cock over his face. His sharp cheekbones would cast shadows, making him look fey and mysterious: unknowable. His tongue would sweep over his lips; first the top, then the bottom. Adam could hear his voice in his head. When had he memorized the cadence of Ronan’s speech? When had he realized that he wanted Ronan?  

The scent of the lotion had permeated everything, had taken up residence in his skin and his lungs and he never, ever wanted to get away from it.

_I want you to, please? Mark me up, mess me up, make me yours, Adam, you know you want to, just fucking do it, come for me, Adam. I want everyone to see who I belong to, do it. Make me yours._

Adam arched off the mattress and whipped his hand away, hovering suspended there for several incredibly long seconds while he gasped for air before he finally released, coming harder than he ever had in his life. While he spilled all over his belly, Adam’s hands were over his face, smothering him in the scent of Ronan’s gift and doing his best to suppress his shaky moans.

After what felt like an eternity, Adam blinked open his heavy eyelids and reached for his discarded underwear to clean himself off. Limbs were heavy and his heart was still pounding, he realized idly that his entire body was shaking from the force of his release. He slumped back into his pillow like a marionette with cut strings. He patted the mattress beside him, trying to find his blanket. When he found the edge, he pulled it over himself and curled into a ball.

He felt… Good. Still bone tired, but sated. He wondered idly if Ronan would somehow be able to tell that he’d used his gift to jack off. Adam wondered if he would be disgusted and offended that his gift had been put to such a licentious use, or smugly pleased for the very same reason. He pried his eyes open once more to look at the small container at his bedside where the white plastic seemed to glow in the faint moonlight. Adam fell asleep with the scent of Cabeswater on his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on Tumblr at @miraculousbitty!


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